What Makes You Beautiful
by onewritergirl93
Summary: I'm thinking of making this a series of random moments based on the song by One Direction, What Makes You Beautiful. I think that will serve as inspiration, therefore inspiring more updates. Thoughts? B/A
1. You're Insecure, Don't Know What For

Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

Alex Eames looked closely at the label on the bottle of diuretics. She turned it slowly in her hand as she considered her options. Sure, Bobby had said to stay away from them, but that was just for show. To make Mark Farrell feel at ease and trick him into admitting to his knowledge of the product. But it couldn't hurt to try a little bit. She was still bloated. In fact, slouching over her desk these days made her tummy feel like a bloody Shar-pei. It had been three months and exercise wasn't cutting it. She just wanted to feel good again.

With that, she reached for her cup of water. Just as she was unscrewing the top, an arm reached around her left side, setting a tall caramel macchiato and a bag of tropical Skittles on her desk. Another arm came around and snatched the bottle of diuretic from her grasp. She felt Bobby's hulking frame bend closer until his breath was on her neck.

"Stop it. You're beautiful."


	2. You're Turning Heads When You Walk

**You're turning heads when you walk through the door...**

Bobby Goren could just kick himself.

Here he was, stuck at a desk filing paperwork, and where was his partner?

On a date.

Well, not a _date_ date, but he doubted Peter-the-Interpreter cared about formalities at this point. In his overly helpful, clingy, _"Oh, Alexandra"_ mind, the two of them were probably picking out wedding rings by now.

_Gag._

It was Bobby's fault, he knew, because he had let her walk out with him. He was the king of butting in to anyone's business and pushy self-invitations. So why had he insisted that he should get some work done while the woman of his dreams went traipsing around the city with this...this...boy. Ugh, he was so flustered that he couldn't even come up with a proper insult. He slumped a little further in his desk chair and turned back to his paperwork. He certainly wasn't going to get anything done, but might as well make it look authentic so the captain would leave him be.

Moments later, Bobby felt rather than heard their return. His head shot up and all thoughts and breathing ceased.

Alex Eames walked as if she owned the whole dang precinct. Her eyes met his and didn't let go as she made a beeline for her desk._ Breathe._ Her blond hair bounced with every step and she had a small smile on her pretty face. Peter-the-Interpreter was saying something, but_ ohmygosh_, the way Alex looked when she took off her coat. Like a flipping runway model. She broke eye contact as she removed the heavy black fabric, revealing her burgundy shirt underneath - Bobby's favorite color on her...

And Peter just spent lunch staring at her in it._ Breathe. _

His eyes were still on her face, and Bobby thought he saw a hint of shyness, maybe even a blush - _wait a minute_, Alex doesn't blush. His glanced uncertainly from Alex to Peter, Peter to Alex. Oh no. _Had he put it there? Were they?_ Using every ounce of self control he could muster, Bobby shoved those thoughts out of his head. If he dwelt on the fact that he had basically given the woman he loved permission to date this man, he would...

Peter-the-Interpreter was trying to get his attention. He forced his gaze from Alex and listened to whatever it was the guy was saying. But all Bobby could think about, as he stole glances at her still, was that he was done. He was done pretending, he was done letting her get away. He was just going to do something about it.

_As soon as this case was over..._


	3. Don't Need Makeup to Cover Up

**Don't need makeup to cover up...**

The back of the white service van was cramped and the floor was covered with a layer of dirt, but it was a welcome oasis from the grimy streets of Queens at midnight. Alex Eames took Bobby Goren's hand and climbed in. She tugged at her skirt, which was far too mini for her liking, as she sat beside him on the bench. Thankful that her partner wasn't much of a talker when they were working, she let herself get lost in her thoughts as they drove back to the precinct.

This case had taken her back to her vice roots, and made her realize how much she didn't miss a single thing about it. As awful as their job was, at least the evil wasn't directed at the detectives, for the most part. In vice, you were thrown into the pit with the animals. She rubbed at her eye tiredly, before remembering the greasy paint that had been swept across her eyelids. She did wear a little makeup, but never in her life had she felt so fake and painted. Her skin was sure to react to the sheer weight of it all. Great. She felt dirty and exhausted and these ridiculous heels were killing her. Home was still hours of paperwork away.

When they got back to 1PP, Alex found the silver lining of working this case in the dead of night - very few officers were involved, so the gawking at her ensemble was left to a minimum. Still, she smiled at the protective way Bobby shielded her, even after giving her his suit jacket, as they made their way up to the eleventh floor. Neither spoke until they were exiting the elevator. Words were rarely needed between the two of them.

"I'm gonna go wash up," Alex gestured with the grocery bag containing her change of clothes, "Hope you didn't get too attached to this look." she remarked, turning before he could answer.

It took a good ten minutes just to get her face clean, with just the paper towels and hand soap she had available. When she was finished, she gave herself a final once-over in the mirror. A shower would have to wait, but her choice of sweats and a simple tshirt/hoodie combo had been a good one. Her blond hair was pulled in a ponytail, and her face was red from the rough paper and harsh soap. She couldn't help but notice the fine lines around her tired eyes were more prominent than usual. But at least it was her face again, and not that of a made up stranger with a questionable occupation. She took a deep breath and left to join her partner.

Bobby looked up and held her gaze. As she sat, he still stared. Finally, she glanced back, slightly annoyed.

"Would you stop staring, Bobby? I told you not to get attached to the hooker look. This is the best you're gonna get right now."

He looked surprised and sheepish, but he didn't look away.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. I'm just trying to make sense of something."

Alex looked up questioningly. Bobby smiled and continued, "You have told me that you graduated the academy when you were twenty-two."

Alex nodded, confused.

"I just...how is it possible that you've been working nearly twenty years, when you're obviously not a day over thirty?"

He broke into a grin.

She fought blush creeping up her neck and rolled her eyes.

"Get to work, Bobby." She couldn't hide her smile.


	4. Being The Way That You Are Is Enough

**A/N** - I'm sorry it has been so long since the last update. I have been busy moving, and we just got internet hooked up a few days ago. I finally had enough time to sit down and write this chapter...hopefully I'll have more time later. This one isn't my favorite; I wasn't sure where I was going with it, but I hope you like it.

**Being the way that you are is enough...**

_"Bobby, do you think the tip of my nose is uneven?"_

The question broke through the silence of the afternoon paperwork lull. Bobby looked up to find his partner pinching the bridge of her nose, her forehead scrunched in thought. They were tackling a mountain of forms from their latest case, in which a plastic surgeon had been murdered, hence the uncharacteristically vain question from the usually confident Alex Eames. Weeks of researching lifts, tucks and injections were bound to rattle any woman.

Now, Robert Goren had never been married and his last serious relationship had been quite a long time ago, but he knew enough about women to realize he had just been pushed unwillingly onto very thin ice. This question was equal to_, "Does this dress make me look fat?"_ or_ "Is she prettier than me?"_ And while Goren and Eames were not in a romantic relationship _(Yet,_ he amended in his mind), the rules were the same. A quick, emphatic,**_ "No."_** was the only correct answer.

And it was the truth, of course. Bobby thought her nose was just fine. It was small and straight, and the tip was symmetrical as far as he could tell. It was cute...but he wasn't about to tell her that, even in this rare moment of girly insecurity. She would probably still deck him. He gave a small chuckle._ Big mistake._ Bobby felt the metaphorical thin ice crack beneath him.

Alex dropped her hand from her face, mumbled _"Forget it"_ and went back to her paperwork.

Bobby wasn't a complete idiot. He was on damage control right away. Stuttering and stumbling, but damage control nonetheless.

"Aw, come on, Eames. I'm sorry. I just...I wasn't laughing at you. I was think -you're...I think your nose is...it's just fine. Nice. It's nice."

Alex wasn't actually mad; she knew the question was ridiculous and now she regretted voicing it. Still, she found that she quite enjoyed Groveling Bobby. She would just let him squirm a little.

As he went on, trying desperately to get back in her good graces, Alex struggled to hold back her smile. She decided to mess with him a bit more. Besides, a cup of coffee did sound good right about then. She stood and walked past Bobby toward the break room. Just as she was about to turn back and put him out of his misery, he stopped her with a hand around her wrist. With his puppy dog eyes trained on her, Bobby said in earnest,

"Your nose is adorable, okay? But I didn't want to tell you so, because I didn't want you to hit me. That's why I laughed. I wouldn't...you're...you're very pretty, Eames. You don't need to change anything."

Alex didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She gave a teasing smile.

"I guess I won't hit you...this time. Coffee?"

Bobby shook his head, confused, as she walked away._ Women._

Alex couldn't stop the grin as she made her way to get their coffee._ Men._


	5. Everyone Else in the Room Can See It

**A/N: I realize these little stories have been on the superficial side and probably totally OOC for Alex, but it's been hard to steer away from beauty and girly stuff with this song as my guide. I will try to add some substance as I go on. It has been fun though, and this one was especially fun for me. I've had this vision of Alex in a stunning dress, standing by their desks and rendering Bobby speechless for a while, but I didn't know how to work it into a story. I had so much fun finally writing it. I hope the description isn't totally boring. I tried to add Bobby's feelings to make it a little more meaningful. Thanks for the support so far!**

**Everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but you...**

"If you don't hurry up, I_ will_ leave without you."

Alex Eames walked across the squad room to her desk and rolled her eyes. Her partner was glued to his computer screen, researching the mating habits of some obscure butterfly in Africa. Alex gave up on pronouncing the name when Bobby kept correcting her. He claimed his findings would be relevant to the case they were investigating. A murdered scientist whose coworker was their main suspect. Their theory was the two scientists had been involved a romantic relationship when they discovered the nearly extinct species. The victim had tried to take credit for the find and his girlfriend poisoned him. With the poisonous fluid from the caterpillars they had captured. You know what they say about payback.

Alex couldn't believe that someone had been killed over a butterfly. Until this moment. They were supposed to be at the science museum right _now_ for the swanky opening of the new butterfly exhibit. Their suspect would be giving a speech. Bobby said it was the best chance to see her in her natural habitat. Alex smiled at the memory of Bobby's amusement with himself when he made that attempt at a science-y joke. But now, they were going to be late, and Alex was holding back semi-murderous thoughts. She did _not_ dress up for nothing.

Finally, Bobby looked up. He said nothing. He couldn't if he tried. His partner looked like something straight out of his dreams. She was naturally pretty in her usual blue jeans and tee, but what he saw now was absolutely, other-worldly beautiful. It was his Eames no doubt, but unlike he'd ever seen her before. His stomach filled with butterflies more exquisite than the rarest of species and his senses were completely overwhelmed as he took in the vision before him. Her straight blond hair had been "waved" _(was that a thing, he wondered?_) and swept into an elegant, yet relaxed, side bun. Little pieces fluttered around her rounded-heart face. Tiny diamonds glittered on her ears. Her delicate features were accentuated with just enough makeup to turn her mischievous hazel eyes to striking, and her serious mouth to flirty. Her dress was pink. Well, it was more of light peach but to his man-brain (genius or not), it was pink. The draping material was almost filmy looking but not sheer. Bobby fought the urge to rub it between his fingers. One-shouldered, the dress displayed her toned arms in a way that made Bobby's eyes want to linger. He tore them away and they wandered to her exposed collarbone. Swallowing, he continued his perusal. The dress was cinched at Eames' tiny waist with an ornate belt-thing that reminded Bobby of snowflakes. The skirt skimmed the top of her knees, showing off her perfect calves, and it swished when she put her hand her hip and looked at him with her familiar smirk. She playfully tapped her silver, strappy heel clad foot. Bobby pulled his gaze up to her face (enjoying the view a second time on the way up). He opened his mouth to speak and shut it again.

Alex, realizing that she had rendered her ever-talkative partner speechless, was caught between embarrassed and flattered. His not-so-subtle inspection made her feel uncomfortably, wonderfully, terrifyingly vulnerable. When his eyes came back to meet hers, she didn't breathe. She couldn't if she tried. He was looking at her like he did in her dreams. Her stomach filled with butterflies more exquisite than the rarest of species. His warm brown eyes were filled with such wonder. She tore her eyes from his before she was lost in them. She glanced nervously around the squad room, only to find the eyes of every man in room on her._ Great._ Alex was _not_ one of those women who liked to be the center of attention. It was unnerving, and kind of irritating in a way. What must she look like on a daily basis if just a dress and some makeup were causing such a stir? Glancing back at Bobby, whose gaze was now the only safe one, she let her eyes show a bit of uncertainty. Bobby found his voice again.

"I get to go with you?" He asked in soft disbelief. Alex smiled broadly, shyly, and bit her lip. A teasing, very Eames-like gleam filled her eyes.

"Not if you don't hurry up." She spun around and started to walk away.

Bobby shut down his computer in record time. When his hand rested on the small of her back as he lead her away, into the night from their dreams but forbidden in reality, both detectives shared one thought.

_Butterflies just might kill them, too. _


	6. Baby, You Light Up My World

**A/N - I have been out of town and/or very busy. This extra long update is dedicated to Dee for reminding me to get a move on! Thank you for your patience and your reviews! **

**Baby, You Light Up My World Like Nobody Else...**

The forecast that evening called for sunny to partly cloudy skies.

As Bobby pulled back the curtain, he wondered if they should arrest the meteorologist for identity theft. The sky was not only filled with clouds, but they were dark and tumbling ever closer, thickening and filling quickly. They would burst any moment, and when they did, Bobby wouldn't surprise if an ark was in order. He turned to his partner, whose house they now occupied.

She was oblivious to the storm brewing outside her window. Instead, she was wrestling with a paint can. The lid was stuck in the paint from yesterday that had dried around the rim and she was trying in vain to pry it off. Bobby could have opened it with ease, but instead he watched in amusement.

Alex was a force to be reckoned with, as that paint can was bound to realize sooner or later. She was one determined woman. As Bobby looked on, he could help but remember her - their - ordeal with Jo Gage almost a month ago. It was the reason they were here now. In a new apartment, painting Alex's new kitchen. After a week of trying and failing to be comfortable in her own home again, Alex agreed that it was time to move on. She bought that house after Joe died, admittedly running from the pain. It hadn't worked. So there weren't any emotional ties to the building; no good ones anyway. After her kidnapping, she tried to tough it out. She was not going to run away this time. She would face her fears and conquer them. It took six nights of terror for Bobby to convince her that she could conquer them by finding a place to breathe again, by accepting that the fears would follow but that she wouldn't be tied down with them. They did follow her here, as he said they would, but at least she didn't have to come home to the place where the nightmare began.

He brought his thoughts back to the present before they went too far. He couldn't let them go down the path to those empty days without her. The desperation he felt then would well up in his chest again and suffocate him. He sucked in a deep breath. She was here. With him. They would conquer their fears together, in this apartment that was mercifully closer to Bobby's. It would take a long time, as the panic from the mere memory still coursed through him. A low rumble of thunder sounded outside and he heard the sudden pounding of raindrops against the living room window behind him. He looked back to his partner who had resorted to scraping the dried paint away with a butter knife. Not only were the cuts on her wrists still fading and her bruised ribs still healing, as evidenced by her grimace when the tin can bumped against her body, but the emotional wounds were still gaping for both detectives. It would take time.

He laughed when her tongue peeked out in an adorable display of concentration. He crossed the room and held his hand out. With a look of defeat, she wordlessly surrendered the can. The lid popped off on Bobby's first try. An incredulous look filled Alex's face, quickly replaced by annoyance.

"I loosened it."

Bobby laughed. Alex grinned and swatted his arm. Bobby playfully grabbed her wrist. Her eyes widened slightly and he quickly loosened his grip. Her heartbeat grew stronger under his thumb and he wasn't sure if it was from panic or...something else...because his was suspiciously erratic too. He let his thumb brush softly across the tender, discolored skin, his gaze never wavering from her hazel eyes. They glistened and her lips parted as if to stop him -

A loud CRACK followed by a BOOM rattled the windows. Everything went black. Alex screamed. Within a millisecond, Bobby wrapped her carefully in his arms, his head bent close to her ear.

"Alex, Alex, it's okay. Shh. You're safe. It's okay. I've got you. " He whispered reassurances as she trembled against his chest, holding fistfuls of his plaid shirt for dear life. Her gasping turned to whimpering and whimpering to soft sobs. She released his shirt and fell against him. He held her as close as humanely possible and kissed her hair. He didn't know how long they stood like that, wrapped in each others arms, a stubborn paint can now forgotten, spilled on new carpet beside them. (Neither would care in the end, as it was one more project to complete together). Finally, Bobby lifted his head, not releasing his grip around her.

"Do you know where your candles or flashlights are?" He kept his voice soft. Alex squeezed him once more and leaned back.

"They're in a drawer in the kitchen." She didn't finish the "just in case" or address the fact that, in a house she hadn't yet moved into, she had already thought to make these supplies accessible. He didn't blame her after...

Gripping his shirt again as a way to lead him, they slowly made their way to the next room. His hand never left the small of her back.

Gathering their supplies (who knew Alex loved fancy scented candles?), they set out to decorate the kitchen and living room. Candles went on every available space, though it wasn't much without furniture. Built in bookshelves, the mantle, window sills and counter space. Bobby lit them as they went and Alex kept her hand on his arm as they made their journey. Finally, the front rooms were bathed in a soft glow of amber light.

Bobby turned to Alex and took her in his arms again. He wasn't sure what came over him, but his body began swaying back and forth, taking her with him. Softly, silently, they moved to the nonexistent music in her small kitchen. A flash of light from outside halted their melody. She straightened reluctantly, but not before hearing another rumble...from inside Bobby's chest.

They laughed.

"Sorry, it's been a while since dinner."

Taking the flashlight from the counter, Alex opened her fridge and aimed the beam of light.

"I have leftover Chinese. It'll need to eaten soon anyway, if we don't get power back soon."

"Sounds perfect."

They worked together (Alex gathered the courage to allow a few inches between their shoulders this time) to carry the Styrofoam boxes and two beers to the living room. They sat with their backs against the wall, shoulders touching, eating cold pork fried rice and orange chicken, watching the rain fall against the window. Their eyes held wordless conversations. Come morning, there would be light and a new day. They would be okay.


	7. The Way That You Flip Your Hair

**The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed...**

Bobby tried to shield his partner's much smaller body as best he could, but the downpour came out of nowhere, drenching the detectives in seconds. Scurrying inside the hotel where the crime scene awaited them upstairs, they turned and laughed as the rain subsided almost simultaneously with their retreat indoors. Bobby ran his long fingers through wet salt and pepper curls, giving him a tousled, boyishly handsome appearance. Alex's straight, blond locks, however, were harder to control. She alternated between smoothing them out at the crown of her head and peeling her wet shirt away from her body. This only succeeded in making the wet strands stick to her face, and an amusing sucking noise from her shirt. Glancing in the mirror mounted on the wall, she grimaced. Bobby stood mesmerized as she bent at the waist and stood quickly, flipping her hair back. She frowned at her reflection once more, shook her fingers through her hair and sighed. Turning around, she found her partner staring.

"What?"

Bobby blinked. "What? Oh. Nothing. You ready?"

Alex smirked and walked past him without a word. It took him a few seconds to follow.


End file.
